Never Said Goodbye
by Levan
Summary: Death; such a malevolent word, yet a common happening for Chris' vocation. But, he never truly anticipated that it would reach his trusted partner too soon. He never even bade his farewell to her, and regret would soon deprive his very soul. Chris x Jill
1. Ultimate Sacrifice

_Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil, nor any elements related about the franchise. It is owned by Capcom and all of their other awesome games. _

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**Never Said Goodbye**

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Far off, thunder crackled through the evening sky, its luminance seeping in through the transparent glass windows of the Spencer Estate. Its roar was faint, but its form was lucid. No matter, it sent shivers through both the B.S.A.A. agents as they ambled through the dark hall, its sparks dramatically affecting the ambiance of the luxurious manor.

Their fear was imperceptible from their expressions, but Chris Redfield's heart was racing. It wasn't dread that made him that way, but actually, he was anxious to see the infamous Umbrella founder Ozwell E. Spencer. They could possibly gather the information they need – info regarding the remaining Umbrella clandestine facilities, various B.O.W. data, the location of Albert Wesker himself…

No wonder, Chris was thrilled to interrogate this man.

On that, he couldn't help but wonder about Jill Valentine. Ah, Jill, the most faithful and trusted partner of the B.S.A.A. agent. She was notoriously cunning, and a very versatile woman.

Just a few days before, he pondered a lot about their raid on the Spencer Estate. The risk factor was considerably large. Who would ever know if Spencer had prepared a welcome "gift" for them? That thought always made him fret about Jill's safety. He knew she was a strong girl, but still, a part of him continues to unnerve him as they closed on in to the large, wooden door that stood across them; the very entrance to Spencer's private quarters. This perhaps, was the very reason for his uneasy feeling.

Chris stared at her for a split second as he pressed his back against the fancy double doors to eavesdrop on anything suspicious beyond it. She had her blue cap on, a simple cap she bought one day from a store after Chris complimented its corporeal look. She was apparently trying to look good for Chris' tastes, unbeknownst to her confused partner. In truth, Jill always preferred her berets rather than caps.

Other than that, she wore her standard B.S.A.A. uniform, a blue leather outfit with the usual tactical vest and undershirt. She had quite a number of holsters, one at the front and two at the back of her waistline, another two on the sides of her black pants, and her trusty knife holster just above her right ankle.

Chris himself wore his old-fashioned S.T.A.R.S. uniform, the green shade of color a bit faded after years of use. Yet, the label of S.T.A.R.S. itself was still bright and easily comprehensible. This outfit would always serve as a treasured memorabilia for him, reminding him everyday of the brave operatives of the Bravo and Alpha teams.

Both of them had their firearms prepared, Chris with his decade old, yet trusty Glock 17 and Jill with her brand new Px4 handgun.

Jill gave him a gestured look, telling him wordlessly that she was ready. Once Chris had nodded in response, they grunted as they pushed the door open and rushed inside, both firearms pointed in front of them to the "surprise" that Spencer had prepared for them.

It was a very shocking surprise indeed.

A body of an old man, which Chris had recognized was Ozwell E. Spencer himself, was strewn across the floor. A large gap was visible through his abdomen, blood oozing out of it repugnantly and staining his maroon-colored robe and the patterned carpet that stretched in the middle part of the room.

Right beside his body stood a wheelchair, an IV stand attached to its side. The tubing of the IV was cut off. Based on the features of the Spencer, it's easily observable that the end of it was originally attached to his temples, supposedly a type of life support.

But that life support was far from enough to save him.

Standing on the shallow platform, a man wearing a long, dark coat slowly turned to face them. His blonde hair was slicked onto the back of his head, and his dark glasses obstructed the image of his eyes. He formed a provocative and sinister grin as he tilted his head to them.

_What a coincidence, seeing them both here, at the same time…_

Strident lightning split through the dark sky again, its deafening roar failing to affect the man's actions. At that short moment of luminance, the man's crimson colored eyes came into their view through his hazy sunglasses, its inconceivable tone so familiar for Chris Redfield since he had first seen it.

"Wesker!"

Without any second thoughts, Chris immediately fired numerous shots upon his ex-captain. Jill joined him after the first few shots were fired. Wesker maneuvered through the flinging bullets effortlessly, curving his body left and right and crouching swiftly to dodge the incoming bullets as he neared the two agents.

Wesker lunged towards Chris and twisted his hand, disarming him in an agile manner. In one swoop, he was able to throw in a right hook, shoulder him in the abdomen, and launch an uppercut. At this, Jill's initial reaction was to shoot him a few times, but like before, she failed miserably for the bullets to make contact.

Wesker gripped her neck and launched her into the air, slamming her against a column. He choked her coercively, making her drop her firearm and slowly strangling her to death as she struggled to break free.

Chris went in and pushed him aside, away from Jill. He delivered a kick, a massive left jab and a straight right punch, but Wesker evaded all of Chris' efforts and caught his hand. He was paralyzed from the immense strength emanating from his ex-captain's grasp.

Wesker ridiculed his feeble potency by coiling his hand around in one full circle, and delivering a quick jab on the face. In an attempt to counterattack, Chris kicked as he regained his momentum from the jab, but was then again thwarted by Wesker as he caught it in mid swing.

By this time Jill had already recovered her handgun and fired at once. He was too agile, though. In a split second, Wesker disappeared from thin air, successfully avoiding the first bullet, and then reappeared and shoved Chris forward, and proceeded to elude the incoming bullets. Jill realized that ordinary aiming will not really aid in accurate shots, so she did the unexpected. She fired on different directions but the shots are precariously in the proximity of Wesker. But alas, he knew too well. He leaped on the air and twirled his body as the shots passed by, only mere inches from his body.

The storm continued to erupt across the shady atmosphere on the outskirts of the manor. Thunder bellows as the clash of the ex-S.T.A.R.S. members continues.

Once Jill ran out of ammo, she raised her leg and slid the knife out of the holster, confirmed her battle stance and charged to Wesker. At the same time, Chris tried to land a lucrative blow on Wesker's overpowered body, but his rash action resulted weakly. He blocked his right hand and delivered a brisk strike, making Chris stumble backward from the blow.

Wesker already anticipated Jill's next attack. He ruined her attempt of delivering a slash by blocking her arm. A ruthless thrust countered her that was so powerful that it propelled her across the room. She moaned in agony as her frail body crashed onto the one of the bookshelves of the library. The calves of her legs collapsed as she fell onto the ground, stunned beyond any ordinary woman could.

Rage reached its peak within Chris at the horrible sight; Jill crippled instantaneously from one blow.

Nothing in his mind kept him from charging recklessly at him, swinging his clenched fists in a desperate attempt of landing a hit. But his actions only caught him off guard as Wesker shouldered him on the stomach, making him cringe, and grabbed his neck. Chris couldn't do anything, he was just too strong. Not even his constant training over the years aided him in this fight.

His ex-captain dragged him on the oaken table, the wooden fragments stabbing through his back painfully. Along with Wesker's suffocating hold, it was unbearable for any average human. He was hurled to the platform like he was a measly animal, absolutely scrawny from the blonde's perspective.

As Chris staggered and recuperated himself, he saw Jill, now recovered from the blow, though horribly weakened from the beating she had just received.

Before he was able to react, Wesker then held him again on the neck, this time a much tighter and tougher grip. Because of the excruciating pain, he could barely keep his eyelids open. But a recognizable scream echoed through the room, and vision was not necessary to know what was going to happen.

"No!"

He wanted to warn her, to get away. He already accepted their loss, and it seemed that there was not a chance for him to live.

But Jill still has her chance.

The problem was, if she ever had the guts to leave her partner to die from the hands of their nemesis.

_Get away from here Jill! Save yourself!_

Only muffled grunts left his dry lips as Wesker continued to crush his windpipe mercilessly. He was more than happy to do this; he was just sick of Chris calling his name every single time they would meet. But, he knew it was better off killing him right there, especially in front of his partner, Jill Valentine. It was a perfect form of mental torture.

_I have you now you pathetic little rat._

Wesker clenched his fists and smiled contentedly at Chris' struggling form.

"Let's finish this."

Before he could finally finish him off brutally, Jill dived in and tackled him.

As Chris fell unto the ground, still with his eyelids closed, he could hear the piercing crash of the glass window nearby, shattering into small fragments just in front of him.

_No… Please no…_

He used the last remaining amount of his strength to stand up, his feelings racing faster than before as he popped his head out of the window and held out his hand. He couldn't take it all in. Not now.

"JILL!"

No answer. No one heeded his call.

"JILL VALENTINE, ANSWER ME!"

His calls were only a fraction of the sounds that riddled the stormy sky, its sound so shabby that it failed to achieve maximum range, drowning out from the rest. He scanned through the dark area below the cliff, the deep abyss so hopeless for survival.

_Why, Jill… Why?_

The pain- an overwhelming torture to his emotions, so agonizing that it surpasses the burns on his back and his battered physique. His heart pulsated erratically, its beating deformed- or he was oblivious to it, so much to an extent that he had forgotten its regular rhythm.

Was this the award he was fated to receive fighting all these years against Umbrella and the rest of the biohazard-threats? It seemed to be, for him. And no way in hell was it worth all the work. He couldn't understand, had he won, or has he lost?

His body went numb right there as he collapsed at the nearby wall, and it was unclear to see which type of torment had caused it. He fought for consciousness, just enough to contact HQ. He wanted to be optimistic; persistent to find her at all costs, carcass or not, as long as it gives him at least a sense of relief. But the thought of it made him cringe.

"HQ… We need… help." He mumbled roughly. His neck was still swelling inconsiderably from Wesker's recent choke. Perhaps "we" wasn't the correct term to say.

"Wait there agent Redfield, help is on the way right now. Just hang on."

He moaned as he threw the radio away from him, smashing apart as it landed on the cold marble. He didn't bother to hear anymore. He couldn't even think of death as he slumped down deeper on the surface of the wall, all he wanted to ponder about was his partner. He just screamed over and over in his mind.

_She's alive… She's alive…_

His optimism slowly dissipated for every word he repeated. But still, stubborn as he is, he refused to accept failure.

But nevertheless, it was an inevitable fact that a major part of his very being would be lost forever. The darkness mocked him as his vision faded, slowly drifting off to unconsciousness.

Reality took its turn, and evil has won. A brave soldier fought, and received death; the ultimate sacrifice.

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A/N: Hello dear readers! This is the story I was talking about recently on my other story, "Fateful Reunion". This story will be a lot longer than before, and there will be some parts that will probably remind you about the previous story I made.

Since the power of Youtube is so overwhelming, I abused it for my own selfish deeds to describe the whole fight that went through between Chris and Jill, and Albert Wesker himself. I admit it already. :(

Just like before, reviews are highly appreciated. Also, please take some time to point out errors and mistakes, or rather, give an effective criticism on my work. I'll surely appreciate it, just don't be a bit too harsh in sense that it's considered already as a direct insult. I'll need them to improve and it'll be a great relief for me. Thanks!


	2. Tell Her

_Two days before…_

"Are you really sure we can trust him?"

Chris was toying around with his handgun, plunging it into an endless cycle of cocking and loading. He kept his back at rest on the brick wall where they stood; a narrow alleyway just a few blocks away from the B.S.A.A. headquarters. The night was peaceful, such solace deep in this placid night.

"Of course," Jill replied confidently. "Don't you remember? He helped us pinpoint the location to the Russian Facility a few years back."

Chris raised a brow. "Wait, so he's the one who told you that?"

"Well... Maybe I forgot to tell you." She smiled innocently, her smile so pleasing and childlike that he never bothered to respond aggravatingly.

The sound of footsteps began to erupt through the path, and Chris' paranoia and presumed habits caused him to hold the incoming man at gunpoint.

"What the hell are you going to do? Shoot him?" Jill said, a little bit of frustration fluctuating from within her. "Don't be so paranoid, Chris. He's fine."

It took him a while before he noticed the frightened man just beyond Jill, the barrel of his firearm so accurately aimed at the man's head. This man had medium length brown hair, and a somewhat skinny appearance. He cowered in fear as the brute glared at him ominously.

Chris lowered his handgun and proceeded to rest on the wall again with his arms folded along his chest. "Sorry about that," he apologized. He lowered his head, still with his firearm at hand, and closed his eyes, looking as if he didn't anticipate his arrival at all.

The man, trying to excuse his dread of him, simply grinned in reply. "It's okay… I guess I'm so used to it now."

_Yeah, and you weren't just trembling back there and shrunk behind Jill._

"It's been a while, Carlos." She held out her hand to shake hands with him. Carlos gladly accepted as he curved a smile between his lips.

"Still having fun in B.S.A.A.? Come on, Jill. I know you're not having that much fun with this big ol' guy!" He said blatantly, such exuberance in his voice.

Chris growled at him. "I could hear you, you know that?"

"Woops, sorry 'bout that." His apology was somewhat dull and not really remorseful. Chris just ignored him; he wouldn't want to flare up in front of his partner.

Sure enough, he wasn't truly aware with the fact that Carlos was her untimely savior. It was because of him, that Jill survived the incident, just a mere fraction away from being another advocate of the undead. After their near-death experiences in that city, Jill proceeded to find Chris while Carlos himself rebelled against his company. Being a former employee, receiving access to the company's hidden information outlets was definitely easy.

"You don't even know what I got this time," he teased at Jill as he waved around what seemed to be a file, placed inconspicuously inside a brown folder. It caught Chris' curious eyes.

"Let me guess… Another facility?" Jill said with a slightly questioning tone, yet deliberately joking in response. Carlos shook his head, and opened it.

Inside were two photographs, one was a picture of an aged man, obviously from his silvery hair and the abundance of wrinkles around his face. The other picture was a mansion, aloft by a tall cliff, its lavish features unmistakably patent. The report looked like a bio, and the sight of it made Chris jump in anxiety.

" Ozwell E. Spencer?! Where the hell did you get that?"

"That's classified information, Mr. Redfield." He mocked, but Chris ignored him as he rushed beside Jill who was busy skimming through the large block of text in the report.

Everything about him was there; his early life, his works, his current location. Chris beamed from the swarm of information that Carlos found, and to express his gratitude, he hugged him tightly. Carlos winced from the brute's powerful lock.

"Woah, calm down, big guy! I can't breathe!" Frantically, he tried to shove Chris away, but his surprising vigor was overpowering. Finally, Chris released him, and Carlos breathed in and out heavily, easing himself.

"God, Chris, you could kill someone with those," He shrugged, pointing out his overly worked-out biceps.

Jill was just relieved that they fumed down a bit, and bonding with each other in a more friendly manner. All of them shook hands before they parted once again, Carlos disappearing from the shadows like an assassin within the dark, baleful night.

As for the two agents, they strolled back to the B.S.A.A. headquarters across the empty streets of the city. Vehicles rarely passed through the paths they've walked through, and at common times, it was eerily quiet. But whenever they were together, they were an unstoppable duo. Not even the likes of thugs or gangs would dare challenge them.

"You should've introduced me to him sooner," Chris said with a delighted smile plastered on his face.

"I guess so. I owe him a lot, considering he saved my life one time."

"When did that happen?" Chris asked in curiosity.

"It was during the Raccoon City incident. I got infected back then, and Carlos risked his life just so he could go all the way to the hospital and fetch me an anti-virus. I was lucky he was there." Jill kept her features locked onto a blank smile, and it was hard to see for Chris what her true expression was.

Chris remembered the guilt he had felt back then after hearing her story, their fateful reunion…

A reminiscent dialogue made its way through his wary mind.

"_Jill, I'm… sorry. I'm sorry I left you there. I had to."_

_I had to? What a stupid reason to say…_

"Chris?" Jill called. She noticed that his face went blank in the midst of their discussion. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I just remembered something. That's all." The tone of his voice was clear enough to warn Jill not to delve in to that memory.

By far, Jill was sure that his melancholic mood still remains inside Chris, after leaving her like that, all alone to fend for herself in the city that people have actually used to call home. She didn't care too much at all. There's no use trying to take all that responsibility, he did what he had to do.

"So… When she would go and infiltrate the Spencer Estate?" Jill asked, changing the topic immediately. Chris removed his bland expression at her question and revealed a normal, yet soothing face.

"I don't really know. We could go tomorrow if you'd like," he shrugged. She shook her head.

"I still want to get some rest after our recent mission. My back's driving me nuts…" she complained with an exasperated stare.

"Okay then, how about the day _after_ tomorrow? Sounds fine to you?"

She nodded in agreement this time, with an enthusiastic look on her face as she gazed at him.

Her gaze, so beautiful, so charming for Chris Redfield, that it struck him with a deep, irresistible thought. But he shook his head as it flowed into him.

_Love is... absurd._

"Chris… I want you to tell me something." Jill's eyes were fixated right in front of her, avoiding eye contact as she made her request. Chris' inquisitiveness only rose as she refused to look at him.

"Yeah?" Chris had an eyebrow raised, awaiting her request.

"Do you… oh what's the word…" She bit her lip, failing to tell him what she wanted to say. Before Chris could ask, Jill cleared her throat, and began again.

"Do you have… feelings, for me?"

_Feelings?_

He didn't answer.

"You know, as in… love."

_Love… _He echoed in the confines of his mind.

He still didn't answer. But after a moment of silence, he tried to breathe out the words he wanted to say.

"I…"

Jill placed a finger on the surface of his lips, silencing him.

"No need, I know, you think it's ridiculous. I guess I got a way bit over the top back there."

Her reluctant smile struck Chris intensely, but as much as he wanted to say his words, he failed miserably to utter them. It was silent the rest of the way.

Relief dominated over them as the B.S.A.A. building came into their view, the unwavering structure hailing superiority across the somewhat utopian metropolis. Two cars were parked just around the corner, a black BMW and a red Sedan so cleverly designed and built, that not one mortal would ignore its flashy, captivating appearance.

"Ah finally, I sure hope I could get some good night's rest." Jill, bleary as she may seem, hastened her steps a bit, leading the way to the two cars. She broke the silence just like that, but still not a word about what she had asked him recently.

"Going to sleep early tonight, Chris?" Jill asked as they neared the two vehicles.

"Not really. Claire invited me to have dinner in her house. Heard she was a good cook. "

"Okay then, have fun, partner. Goodnight." Those were her words before she shut the door, disappearing through the safety of her Sedan. Moments later both agents parted ways, but Chris still could not forget her words.

"Feelings…" He whispered to himself before he drove off to Claire's apartment, with the thought still etched lucidly across his mind.

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A/N: Update! It could've been faster though, but I was a bit too busy studying for the exams. Now that it's over (and it resulted awesomely, mind you) I guess I could concentrate on the story a bit more.

I really think I did badly on this chapter. I guess I rushed it a little too much. x_x

**Ultimolu, Stardust4, Natasha Sunderland, Kitty-Kat bebe, Tiger Snaps, Kenshin13**:

Thank you very much for reviewing, I really, really appreciate it! Next update will be coming soon. :D


	3. Dinner

Chris's eyes narrowed as Claire's home came into view, the ever-so familiar features of the suburban house clear to him, as well as the whole street that was dimly lit by the street lamps and the fluorescent garden lights that are scattered throughout the neighboring houses. Claire Redfield's home was certainly the most recognizable for him; its grey coating, the auburn roof, and the superfluous decorations that hung just right on the front door. Claire, perhaps, needs a little more adjustments to her decorating skills.

Chris parked the car just inches away from Claire's gorgeous Porsche 911. How she afforded it, Chris had no idea, but Claire's profound career in Terra Save might as well be a reasonable excuse.

His arrival was greeted by a skimpy smile of her little sister, so keen on having his brother over for a quick meal. Chris was busy most of the time, and it would always be a special occasion to have him over at her house. Claire had persistently invited him to move in with her, but she fails every time. Chris though, believes he made the right decision. He wouldn't want her sister interrupting his work, seeing how obnoxious she can be at times.

"Chris! Glad you came." She rushed by his side and gave him a warm embrace, a welcoming gesture.

"Well, I did want to check up on you after all." He embraced her back, and for a moment, it felt like their family was whole again. Though physically impossible, both Redfields could sense the presence of their parents just around them, how long they've been gone from their lives.

"Come on in; hope you'll like the food." She led the way to the front door and into her house wholeheartedly, shrugging along the way about how she furnished her very home.

Though the outside looked unappealing, the inside, from Chris' perspective, was superb. The fascinating furnishings of different paraphernalia of artistry had been used to decorate most of the house. Their old pictures that Claire somehow managed to keep for the past years were presented ideally on top of the wooden, antique tables that lay across the front hall and the living room.

Chris nestled down on one of the recliners on the living room as Claire headed to the kitchen to prepare their food. The scrumptious aroma of pasta lingered the air, catching his interest. Other than that, there was also a luscious smell emanating from the kitchen, a meaty scent.

"Food's ready, Chris!" Claire shouted over from the kitchen. At this, he stood up and made his way towards the dining room, where his dinner awaits.

"Jill said you started to like pasta, so I made a classic one, fettuccini alfredo. But of course, I knew you'll want some protein in your food so I made these."

She gestured over the tray she held, containing some odd-looking dumplings that were topped with chopped onions. That was where the meaty scent originated.

"Pierogi?"

Claire's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"You're not the only one who cooks, you know."

Chris grinned at her, knowing that they both have grown to learn in the fine art of culinary works, inherited from their mother, a master chef. Though it is not necessarily her profession, she knew how to cook like an experienced Iron Chef.

She chuckled a little before firmly placing the tray on top of the table. She sat afterwards, and began to dig in.

Time flowed evenly as they dined, casual conversations erupting one after another, stories, mischief and even wayward secrets were told. Chris did not mention anything about their impending raid on Spencer's mansion, though. He knew very well, that telling her about it will only persuade her to come with them.

But through their discussion, Chris slowly remembered Jill's voice.

"_You know, as in… love."_

The flashbacks certainly added to his discomfort, his heart slowly giving way to hysteria for every word from Jill that flickered through his mind. He shoved the thought, and another thought came into his mind at that.

"Claire, could you tell me more about… Steve?"

Claire froze; her blue eyes beamed at the mention of his name.

"I… I'm sorry for bringing that up. I shouldn't have-"

"Nah, don't worry about it. I did want to talk about him anyway." Claire stared down on her plate, her expression looking like she was suppressing a frown.

"Steve… All I could say is that he's just so loathsome. He just annoys me at times with all his bragging and naïve personality. He thought I would 'slow' him down if I came with him, even though it was clear whose butt got kicked when we first met." She laughed a bit, but then ceased just seconds after. The memory seemed to kick in very clearly across her thoughts.

"He just… grew. Matured, probably. He became protective, he was kinder, and he…" She trailed off as a lonely tear trickled down from one of her cheeks, interrupting her. Chris couldn't help but feel her sorrow as he stared at her.

She began again. "I just miss him a lot. I couldn't save him when he was... dying." She swallowed hard. Her throat thickened as she reminisced, and it felt heavier for every statement that came out of her lips.

Nevertheless, Chris couldn't resist the temptation to ask her.

"Did you… love him?"

Claire didn't reply. She played with her pasta a bit, twirling her fork over and over, with no plans at all to consume them as she did. She sighed, and then started.

"Yes. I do. But… now that he's gone, Leon's the only one left for me."

He learned now, that death surely is horrifying. Losing someone, especially if you love that person…

"Did Steve ever love you back?" Chris gazed at her thoughtfully.

"Yes. Wholeheartedly."

With her fingers, she wiped off the trail of the tear from her smooth face, and grinned.

"Thank you, Claire."

"It's nothing." Her smile widened a bit more and she began to take bites out of the Pierogi she made.

Chris stood up from his table, and went to the cupboard in the kitchen. Claire was a bit concerned, but then she realized that Chris was just going to get something.

"How about a glass of wine, just for the night?"

A buoyant expression made its way to Chris, and he popped the bottle open. He poured about a pint in both glasses.

"Cheers." Chris rested his hand on top of Claire's dining chair, and held up his glass.

"Cheers." Claire said, holding up her own glass, and a classic rendition of the old "Cheers" occurred right there, in the household of Claire Redfield.

They drank to their heart's content, deep into the night.

---

_One day left._

"Wake up sleepyhead."

Crack.

Chris shot straight up, his eyes suddenly searching around his office for the source of the sound. A knife was stabbed through the table he was drowsing on, _his_ table. Jill stood right in front of him, her hands holding on her hips. Her lovely face had twisted into an annoyed frown.

"Jeez, Jill. That's the fourth hole in a week. You're gonna make me have to buy a new one if this keeps up…"

"I had back pains and I'm more active than you." She smirked before continuing her statement. "Had fun last night?"

"Yeah… Claire's pretty good with pasta. I just think I had a little too much to drink. I feel dizzy."

Chris began to continue on working on some reports on the desks, just as so he could get his paperwork done by today. At least, he'd have the full day tomorrow. And that tomorrow is the day…

With her hands along her back, Jill began to pace the room, her eyes looking as if they were wandering aimlessly, searching around the agent's room with dignified curiosity. In the corner of her eye, she saw a wide, though not correctly proportioned picture of the S.T.A.R.S. team. She ran her fingers through the slightly lumpy picture, examining each and every member. As her fingers crossed a stout-looking man with a scruffy beard, an amusing memory entered her mind.

"I wonder what Barry's doing now," she said, trying to muffle out the laughter. Chris kept writing on his paperwork, features unmoving, but he replied.

"He's having fun with his family, I bet. As for Rebecca, I don't really know. Last I heard of her, she said she was searching for someone."

"That special someone must be pretty important to her… huh?"

Chris paused from writing for the moment, and stared at her. Was she trying to point out something?

"Maybe."

He lowered his head again and let his hands slide through the smooth texture of the paper, still with objectives in mind as he wrote and wrote. Jill watched him as he did his work, candid and silently.

"Wait, don't write that-"

Her hands leapt in response to the sight of the embarrassing report he was about to write, when she had mistaken someone for a bioterrorist. Her humiliation made her blush insignificantly, and Chris writing it down would certainly kill her remaining dignity.

Her reaction only lead to her tender hands making contact with the agent's brute-like, yet comfortably warm skin. Both paused once again, the eluding touch so distracting in some way. An odd feeling swept by them; finally Chris had realized, once again, that they had stopped instantly.

Chris jerked his hand away and kept on writing, ignoring the report he was about to write and skipping on to the next one. Jill stood up, took a deep breath, and began to walk away. Chris stopped her.

"Wait."

Jill turned around with a questionable look.

"Yeah?"

"I… I want to tell you something. It's-"

One of their co-workers, Kirk, spoiled the moment and entered, seeking Jill. "DeChant needs you ASAP; you might want to go to him now."

Chris and Jill stared at him blankly, and Kirk's heart chanted nervously at their stares.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm coming." Jill faced Chris again. "Have to go, you could tell me tomorrow if you'd like."

She began to walk away, her steps emitting disturbing cracks as she disappeared from his view.

_Yes… There's still time. There is always time._

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A/N: I'm very, very sorry for the long update. I could've finished a whole lot sooner if I didn't get sick… And repeatedly receive homework at that.

Hopefully the next update will be much quicker.

**Natasha Sunderland, Ultimolu, xTSxConnor, ditto9, d-chan-67, Kenshin13, Brittany Brittany:**

Thanks for reviewing chapter 2! And thanks for the encouraging words, it makes me wanna improve on my writing more. :D


	4. Memories

**A/N**: I decided to post this now on the first part of the chapter so that this time it wouldn't mess you up especially right after reading, lol. Though I think that's the case, if it isn't then I guess this is fine either way.

Took a real while trying to finish this chapter, and I was surprised this actually reached more than three thousand words! I just hope you don't get sick of reading, lol, and really, I enjoyed writing it, and I think I did pretty well, but it still needs a lot of improvement :(

BTW, based off from the chapter name you can tell some scenarios would be memories. Hence, I divided the current events to the memories through Normal and Italics, Normal simply being the current events and Italics being the memories. Hope you guys and gals don't get confused. x_x

Thanks to **Ultimolu**, **ditto9**, **Tiger Snaps**, **xTSxConnor**, **Supermodel Sandwich**, **girlinblue17** for reviewing Chapter 3, it really gives me a better reason to write and improve myself more. :)

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_She climbed onto her feet, feeling wary from the excessive paper work done for the whole day. She tumbled down on a couch with a relieving sigh, and closed her eyes. She didn't feel sleepy._

"_Sometimes I wonder why I joined the B.S.A.A."_

_Across the room, a man seated at the lounge laughed at her statement. "Don't you remember? I invited you. Being all miserable about being left out, you volunteered."_

_She grumbled annoyingly, and buried her face under the comfort of her plushy pillows. It reminded him of his sister._

"_Aren't you even tired yet? You keep changing positions."_

_Yes, she was shifting her positions frequently. She was restless, yet her mind was under an enormous amount of pressure and stress. Sleep would necessarily be a great factor of liberation from restlessness, only if she would be liable to._

"_Hm. Wanna sleep over at my house?"_

"_Sleep over?"_

_He wondered why she thought of that._

"_Aw, come on. It'll be fun. It's just, I like sleeping when you're around. I feel safe."_

_How touching._

"_Maybe next time."_

_She sighed once again._

"_Alright, best I go home now."_

_She stood up groggily and ambled to the door, keeping her poise firm and steady, though in another sense, he was intuitive with the fact that she felt disappointed. Guilt came dashing down through his body._

"_Okay, I give up. Would tomorrow be fine?"_

_She nodded in appreciation that he had finally befallen on her scheme of invitation._

"_Chris."_

"_Yeah?" He raised a brow, curious to what she was about to say._

"_Chris."_

"_Huh?"_

"Chris, are you alright?"

A call, yet no response.

"Chris, snap out of it, now."

Somebody abruptly shook his shoulders, interrupting his thoughts.

"What the hell-"

"Shut up, Chris. You've ignored me for the last time," Claire snapped, "What the heck is wrong with you?"

"I… don't know."

It's been three months - three long, hard, agitating months. Though time flew by fast, suffering was present still. It never left his conscience, no matter how hard he tried to forget it. Forget her.

"I'll be on the other room. Call me when you need something, 'kay?"

Chris nodded obediently, though eerily silent. Claire continued to pout forlornly, worried so much on her brother's behalf. He had never acted like this before; so quiet, so blank, so isolated at times. How she wanted to confront him, but the fear of irritating him never left her mind every time she would attempt it. So she simply didn't, but she knew he had to. Soon, Chris might just as well go mad, mental even, from all his pondering. She left the room, sighing softly.

Chris kept staring perplexedly on the wall – the dull, unappealing wall – that separated the two rooms between him and his sister. His chin was at rest by his clenched fists, and he was seated on a plastic chair. His mind wandered aimlessly; the past, the present, the future; it traveled so strangely that he was secluded from reality itself.

The door swung open just like that, yet the adamant Chris never jumped in shock.

It was only Kirk, also with a frown, who made his way to the middle of the room where Chris lay. He knew very well that he was waiting for the report like any other week; he was so desperate on finding her. And now he comes to tell him about it, making him wince in dread.

"Chris… they… I-I mean, the report just arrived. The rescue operatives are standing by."

"They can come in." His voice was extremely monotonous, yet it contained a sort of hidden animosity. Was he mad, and if he was, to whom?

"A-alright," Kirk stuttered. Chris never shifted his head to look at him throughout the conversation.

Kirk left, Chris still so enigmatic in a way that he looked as if though he really has gone mad. A few seconds later, after hearing whispers outside, one of which was the voice of Kirk, two men had entered.

"How did it go?" He said as soon as the sound of footsteps had entered his ears.

One of them neared him, a folder at hand, and gave it to him. He opened it with a stern expression.

"Bullshit."

He threw away the folder with undisputed rage, the papers scattering messily across the floor. The papers, along with some photographs, revealed a cruel statement for the agent. A statement that was highlighted, in bold, and was underlined.

**BODY NOT FOUND, IS PRESUMED DEAD.**

"Why can't you goddamn people be at least useful in situation like this?" He shouted.

"I'm very sorry Mr. Redfield. We tried the best we could do. We searched for months already, and we haven't found any signs of her anywhere around the premises of the Spencer Mansion. You just have to accept that she's gone."

_Gone?_

He stood up, his eyes writhing in fury, and left the room right after he collided with one of the operatives that nearly knocked the hapless guy down on the floor.

"Worthless…" He whispered under his breath just before he left the two completely baffled men that stood inside the room motionlessly.

It was then that Chris had decided to search for her himself, and he was confident that he, himself would find her.

His unfamiliarity with the building caused him to lose precious minutes of his free time. He left the building without any hesitations, yet he was successful only after a while. He noticed the sudden downpour that occurred as he made his way out of the building.

_Great, _he thought sarcastically as he sheltered himself under the covers of the entrance of the structure. After heaving a sigh, he covered his head with the hood of his jacket and walked to his car.

The impetuous rain thrashed down on the gravel floor, crashing down with its apocalyptic glory. Its rhythm was intense; a never-ending, pulsating mantra that stroked the deep ends of his very soul. He kept his pace, though, calm all along the way. He never looked back, as if though he had forgotten everything – his sister, his friends, his job, and even his dear, tortured life that cycled like an eternal torment of death, betrayal, and loss.

How twisted his life was indeed.

Yet he comes to hope; he relies on it to see it through, to brighten up the last strand of light that lingered so inconspicuously across his emotions which hid like as if though it was hiding in terror against the harsh events of reality. It was simply what he needed to remove this undying lament for his forsaken partner; truly, he believed it was.

He twisted the key, unlocking the doors of his BMW which emitted a fairly loud click. He entered and drove off to the direction of the Spencer Estate, where, in hopes, Jill Valentine awaits for his presence.

-

His mind was set – focused on the very objective he had promised himself as he left the premises of the building. Nothing would stop him from trying to search for her, no matter how nearly impossible it was, no matter how many times that rescue team tried to find her. It was obvious, in any type of pretext, that perseverance had infiltrated the walls of his actions, dominating overall.

He knew, also, that Claire would follow him sooner or later. Disappearing like that in the midst of waiting would undoubtedly cause worry for his protective sister. He didn't want her to find him at his condition; a weakened condition which showed so visibly across his features. He was ashamed of it, every single repulsive part of it.

His car then came across a checkpoint. Three men stood guard there, and the heavy downpour continued on. Two of them sheltered themselves onto the small structure that stood across the checkpoint, and it seemed to be a cold day for them. They were satisfying themselves with a few cups of coffee, the steam emanating from the open windows.

"Coffee…"

"_Coffee?" Jill asked. He refused._

"_Aw, come on. It's just coffee."_

_He shook his head again and again. His refusals followed a rhythmic pattern that was strangely harmonious over the roar of the rain that thundered down from the outside._

"_No thanks."_

"_Killjoy…" She snorted. Chris chuckled a bit, the thought of an annoyed Jill flashing on his mind._

_She took her own cup and began to sip on it. Her eyes were closed as she drank incessantly, a feeling of contentment painted on her face as she filled her stomach with the highly addictive drink, gurgling along satisfyingly. Chris smacked his lips._

"_Ha! I knew you wanted one."_

_She beamed; she knew she won their argument, and Chris had no choice but to slap his head for being so weak in resisting temptations. "Crap, you got me. But I really can't-"_

"_Forget your diet, it's a load of crap anyway. It's a rainy day and you should be drinking some nice, warm coffee. Come on, just a cup would be fine."_

_She began to fill up another cup with caffeine, and once it was full he slid it over to him across the table that separated them from one another. He took the cup hesitantly, thinking he might regret consuming this 'intoxicating' drink he had known to have been bad for his diet. But then he thought, what the heck, a cup wouldn't hurt much. Hopefully._

"_See? Told 'ya it tasted good."_

_Yes… It was delicious for the big guy, and he began to drink in the same manner of Jill – continuously and at ease. It gave him a revealing feeling of pleasure, and wondered if he should have some more after he emptied one whole cup._

"_If you want some more, you can help yourself over at that counter."_

_She gestured over the coffee machine that lay on one of the desks. _

"_Thanks."_

_At the second cup of coffee he took his time now, enjoying every sip as it lasted. He wouldn't be drinking another one anytime soon. He walked over Jill after filling his cup and sat beside her, who in turn, was sitting on one of the tables, swinging her legs back and forth from the height and staring outside the large block of glass that was noticeably wet. She was taking her time as well, just like Chris._

"_You're not going finish your coffee?" Chris asked._

"_Nah, I just like your company, that's all."_

_She paused briefly, took a quick sip and began again._

"_Do you think the rain… is such a lovely sight to see?"_

_He stared at her lovely face, reflecting the behavior of a little child. It enthralled him._

"_Yeah, it does."_

_And it lasted as much as Chris had wanted; as long as he didn't finish, none of them would ever leave._

Knock knock.

Chris shuddered a little when the knocking began to erupt. It was one of the men that stood a while ago, clad in a drenched raincoat that seemed to have looked like he was working ever since the rain had started. He pounded on the glass window with a clenched fist, the noise of the rain being the very reason for his coarse action.

Chris dug into his pocket swiftly, reaching out for his B.S.A.A. badge. He knew it was impossible to pass through without it. When his hands finally felt the cold steel of the badge, he grabbed it and flashed it to the window.

The man looked as if he recollected his thoughts for a moment, until finally he had realized that he needed to let him pass. He saluted Chris before the agent himself drove off through the blockade, feeling the respect that he deserves for joining the B.S.A.A.

It was exactly what he remembered.

He drove through the lush evergreen of the forest, the sight so prevailing that he pondered on why it never became a landmark. It was even more incredible with the fact that the downpour had failed to truly disrupt its beauty and elegance. Marvelous was what Chris had thought, though it was already clear that he wouldn't let distractions hinder him from searching for her.

At last he had arrived just below the manor, its lavish features still so potent even through the foggy anomalies of the environment due to the lasting rain. It was still aloft as it was when he had been here, aloft by a steep cliff that haunted his dreams for near-eternity.

He cringed.

He refused to leave at first. He was exhausted, and his weakened body would soon collapse from the ounces of pressure that couldn't leave him. He laid back, let himself nestle in his own, warm car and closed his eyes briefly. He tilted his head, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw something.

The empty front seat.

"_Aw shit." Chris Redfield cursed under his breath when he noticed that the pointer for the fuel had already corresponded to the dreaded letter E. Empty._

"_Wow, with all the luck, eh?"_

_Chris ignored her statement and continued to slam his foot against the pedals, persistently trying to make it work. But again his stubbornness came, and for sure his actions were utterly useless._

"_It's okay, Chris. I'll call the guys to pick us up."_

"_But we're fifty miles away from the nearest town. It'll take hours before they reach us, and we still have to get to the party." Irritation was so evident in his voice. _

"_Oh hush, Chris. It's not like we're gonna die if we don't get there."_

"_Claire's going to kill me if we don't get there."_

_She laughed, laughed so hard that it was actually very unethical for a big brother to be so afraid of her little sister that was barely even half his size, or weight, for that matter._

"_Yeah, keep laughing. I just don't like Claire when she's worried. Or angry. I really don't like it when she's angry. You don't know what the hell she could do…"_

"_I'll keep that in mind."_

_She suddenly left the car, leaving him behind. Of course, she wouldn't dare to walk out on the open field, the nearest town being so far away. He was relieved though that it wasn't the case. She simply left the car to call the others to get a better signal in this vast, endless wasteland._

_He climbed out and approached her, and with feline-like instincts he stalked her like a tiger preying on an unsuspecting gazelle. Her back was turned, and he was near. _

_He leapt._

_He gripped her waist with his brawny arms, locking her and at the same time, laughing hysterically from Jill's panicked face when he had done so. He swung her around like a toy, being ever so light from Chris' unnatural strength. It was then that she had joined him as well._

"_Let go, Chris," she said, though not infuriated, but joyful._

"_Fine, fine."_

"_This'll be a long, long night." She walked a bit farther from him when he had released her, and stared at the cosmic sky, the moon shining in brilliance and unrivaled from any others, which most of the time, it would be neglected in the light-filled metropolis where they lived._

_The stars were oddly luminous tonight, the fairly eluding glow gradually decreasing their troubles. It was as if they were momentarily in paradise itself, all alone in the middle of the desolate land, only with the company with the alluring sky, the car, and each other._

"_Ugh, I think I'll go to sleep. Hope the car's soft enough."_

_She held her head, revealing the pressure that somehow never left her body. Chris then rushed to the back of his car, opened the compartment, and searched inside. Jill approached him, curious to what he was searching for._

_At last, with a grin, he pulled out a folded cloth, two pillows and a camping mattress._

"_Where'd you get that?"_

"_I tend to sleep anywhere on long drives. I don't like to drive while I'm drowsy." He said, still with his particular grin._

"_Two pillows? That's a bit convenient."_

"_What? I like sleeping with two pillows."_

_Her reply was only a smile, another charismatic smile that gave way to his happiness, his enjoyment, his contentment with his partner. He laid the comforter on the open grass that was just beside the road._

"_It'll be perfect, just under the stars, just like camping."_

_When Chris had jumped on to the comforter, he locked his hands together, crossed them behind his head and rested upon them. Meanwhile, Jill hesitated._

"_Seems… awkward, sleeping together, isn't it?"_

_He blushed._

"_Uh… I'll go ahead and sleep in the car if you'd like…" _

"_Oh shut up, you always like to offer your stuff." Her tone didn't match with frustration, but instead, playfulness was its abrasive._

_Without anymore delays, she lied in with him, and set both of her hands by her abdomen, and stared at nothing but the universe, the endless space that was ever so clear across both of their eyes. _

_Beautiful. Just, beautiful._

"_This is so relaxing… I wish it was like this everyday."_

I wished it was too_, Chris thought._

"_I'm going to sleep… Wake me up tomorrow."_

"_Alright."_

"_And by the way," she added._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Thanks. I bet I've had more fun here than your sister's party," she smirked._

_Minutes passed and silence fell, though out of the two of them, one still stood awake._

_Jill's sleeping body was facing away from his sight. He traced the line from her head to her glamorous blue dress, and truly she was well built, strong, yet in a sense, had a perfect body for a woman like her. Her silken brown hair was untied from a ponytail, and it looked so smooth enough to touch, like his hands would melt if he did. The cloth Chris had was barely enough to repel away the cold._

"_Chris…"_

"_Jill? You're still awake?" He asked out of concern._

"_It's cold… It's hard to fall asleep like this." She sighed._

"_Take the cloth-"_

"_Oh not that crap again," she mumbled. _

"_Then how do you think you could sleep?"_

"_Remember, survival one-o-one. We could hug each other to share our body heat."_

"_Hug? What are you-"_

_Before he could finish, she turned around, shifted her position and placed her hand right on his chest, a rock-hard, muscled chest that was definitely warm, so comforting to touch. To Chris it was relaxing, so soothing, a hand so soft and even. Her face was barely an inch away from his._

"_Much better… Thanks."_

_She closed her eyes, and only in seconds, she had fallen asleep._

_Chris stared, not at shock, but how Jill was so awkward, so strange at this time. It felt like a Jill he never knew, but oddly, he liked it. He liked the playful Jill better than the serious one. Her face had the complexion of a goddess, pale white from the dazzling moonlight and smooth toned beyond his belief._

_He was a bit nervous, but he mustered up his courage and raised his hand and slowly coiled his arm around Jill's hair, careful not to wake up her peaceful slumber. Afterwards, tempting as it seem, he raised his other hand this time, and carefully, he held hers that rested upon his chest. He held them firmly, locked them yet still she never woke up. He grew incredulous with this fact though, but he didn't care._

_He was still conscious, keeping the moment, this very special moment as long as he liked. Warmth; the warmth of her body against his was more compelling than anything that he had imagined or experienced. It was unwinding, and they were secluded from everything._

_Just them. Nothing else._

Oh, why o why, did he not see it before.

It was then that a particular sight caught Chris' eyes.

Something dark.

Something blurry.

A silhouette.

It was a silhouette that was as dark as the shaded sky at night, a silhouette whose identity was sheltered from the pouring rain. And throughout the image, the color of blue was lucid.

The color of blue, right on top. A cap.

It looked so clear, so coherent from his vision; her blue cap. Was it her? Of course there was doubt. Doubt never left. But, belief ruled over all of it.

Without caring to cover his head, he climbed out, and ran. He ran, his heart racing, pulsating swiftly. Nothing could ever stop him now. Nothing would distract him, no obstacle would obstruct him, and no human could persuade him. He ran to her. He ran to his last hope.

He fell.


End file.
